Gypsy Song
I don’t need no fiction nor any reality, to
Hold on to
from this exact point where I stand
Or do I really care
Yet the voices in my mind say –
“If that’s the dilemma the world is bringin
now; if that’s what you are really thinkin
Oh boy, have you been arite !!”
As long as the gypsy birds keep on flyin
up high, in the sky
keep on rollin
and dancin along the smoky sunshine
Leaves me wonderin, ‘how far
can I go on living such a life, being
so submissive within
the perpetual borderline
And the voices in my mind, say –
“Haven’t you been chainin your gypsy soul
for so long
Aint it time to leave everythin behind
now; and keep on writin this gypsy song
Oh boy, have you been arite !!”
All my life I’ve been runnin
on the treadmill and swimmin in the pool
My cozy bed;
The power-saving light
Even the seat-belt of my car
holding me tight
and the closed door of my
office room, the goofy clients and the pile
of files
and my laptop is so
freakin gentle and my cellphone behavin
like a parasite
Standing behind the frozen window of
my bedroom
Looking at these drifting cloud
The voices in my mind, laughs out loud –
“Whatever is there tying you up to the core
Tear off all that strand
And hit the roads till you find yourself lost
again, In some unknown land
Oh boy, have you been arite !!”
Those broken mirrors, I look my face at
And
My silly wallet
My coffee mug,
My alarm clock, my toothbrush
My routined life, and the daily rush
And aint I gonna miss my alarm clock
Somehow
(Ah, my dear little alarm clock – my love
My better-half
For years, I’ve slept beside you
My alarm clock - I love you)
But I’m
Gonna say you ‘bye’, for now.
And the voices in my mind, shout out –
“Standing beneath
The moonlight, the supernova and stardust
Don’t you feel, the slowly growin rust
On your domesticated heart!
And when you touch the drizzlin rain
Ah, the drizzlin rain
Are they any longer soothin your pain!
and
Aint you in desperate need to get lost again
Oh boy, have you been arite !!
The chains you’ve been carryin all along
Aint it time to leave everythin
behind
now; and keep on writin this gypsy song!
Get out now, hit the roads, get lost again
Let now find out, where these skies
really bend
Because,
When you truly learn how to fly
you actually don’t need no ground
to stand”
About the Poet:
Moin Serneabat is a writer and he writes. He writes about whatever he feels writing about, and that’s all he uses to express himself. Because he believes, for a writer except for this “He writes” all other information must be ‘Quite Irrelevant’.
Yet, to say more about him, he lives in the Regina city of Canada. he completed his Masters from the University of Regina. By profession, he is a Financial Advisor. “Tale of the Evenings” is his first published book, a collection of 121 poems, a 152 pages book published in 2013.